


A Little Shameless

by sixtysevenlmpala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tumblr Prompt, Weecest, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 21:17:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixtysevenlmpala/pseuds/sixtysevenlmpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the anonymous prompt: "Can I please have weecest, Sam sitting on Dean's lap with his legs all spread out while Dean fingers him?"<br/>Dean comes home late to an extremely eager Sammy who's been waiting for hours.<br/>Originally posted on <a href="http://sixtysevenlmpala.tumblr.com/post/51518376247/dean-loved-sam-like-this-he-loved-him-all-the">tumblr</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Shameless

Dean loved Sam like this.

He loved him all the time, of course, more than anything, because he was pretty much the only light in Dean’s tiny, dingy world – loved Sam when he was shy and bashful, when he was quiet and thoughtful and lost in a book. But he had to admit he had a soft spot for Sam when he was in _this_ mood; eager, desperate, a little shameless.

Dean had only walked through the door less than three minutes ago, and already he’d been ambushed by a bundle of little brother and found himself unceremoniously pushed down into the armchair in the living room with a lapful of Sammy.

“Sam, what—“

“Dean,” Sam breathed, and Jesus, he was stark naked, his cock hard already, rubbing up against the cotton of Dean’s t-shirt as he straddled his hips. He spread his legs wide enough for his knees to be wedged between the chair and either side of Dean, pressing himself up against Dean’s front and winding his arms around his neck. “Been waiting for you,” Sam whispered, breath tickling Dean’s ear. “You said you’d be back by ten.”

“Got held up,” Dean explained simply, turning his head to kiss Sam’s neck. “Sorry, baby boy, you been gettin’ all worked up for me?” he chuckled, and Sam made an impatient, grumbly noise, grinding his cock into the softness of Dean’s belly as if to say _yeah, duh, asshole._

“Want you so bad,” Sam mumbled, “fuck, can you…?”

“Can I what, Sam?”

“Fuck me,” Sam demanded, fingers curled tightly in the leather lapels of Dean’s jacket, “with your fingers. Want you to… spread me open,” and Dean groaned, his dick jerking in the confines of his jeans at that kind of filthy request coming from his baby brother. It made it even hotter that he was echoing the phrase Dean would usually use if he was in charge – but he certainly was not in charge right now, pinned beneath his little brother and staring at him like he was a wet dream come true, helpless and open-mouthed.

“We don’t have lube, Sam,” he reminded him, stroking a hand softly through Sam’s hair in a gesture that was meant to calm him down a little, but only served to send a shiver down his spine.

“Don’t care,” Sam muttered, rolling his eyes and blowing his hair out of his eyes with a little exhale that puffed his cheeks out. He reached for Dean’s right hand, brought it to his mouth and Dean just stared dazedly and let him, gaze completely transfixed on Sam’s pink lips wrapping around two of his fingers, sucking them down as far as he could.

“Jesus, Sam, really want it, don’t’cha,” Dean commented breathlessly, and Sam only whined around his fingers, tongue wrapping around and between them to get them as wet as he could. His eyes were locked on Dean’s and he hollowed his cheeks a little, mainly just for show, but it drew a quiet moan out of Dean.

With a final stroke of Dean’s fingers along Sam’s tongue, Sam slowly withdrew them from his mouth and guided Dean’s hand behind him. “Do it,” he said, biting his lip as he pushed at Dean’s hand, and Dean cursed under his breath, leaning in and catching Sam’s mouth in a kiss: primarily to shut him up, but also because his lips were a perfect candy-floss pink and glistening, and Dean thought it was a crime if he wasn’t being kissed every second of the day.

Sam gave another impatient whine, the note wavering in his throat, and Dean laughed a little into the kiss, swiping his tongue over Sam’s one more time before pulling back and sucking absently at Sam’s bottom lip, wanting to plump it up, make it kiss-swollen and obvious. “Okay, Sammy, alright,” he muttered, sliding both hands down his back towards his ass, cupping one of Sam’s ass cheeks with one hand while the fingers of the other teased around his hole. Sam immediately spread his legs even more, impossibly wide, and Dean groaned at the sight of it; Sam completely unabashed, no qualms whatsoever, simply giving himself over to Dean.

When Dean slipped the first inch of a finger into him, it felt like Sam’s whole body tightened around the intrusion, and Sam gasped, falling forward against Dean’s chest so that he could arch his back a little more and press back into it, urge Dean deeper inside of him. Sam’s hair was tickling the crook of Dean’s neck, his nose buried in his t-shirt and his hot little mouth panting out already-ragged breaths into his chest, letting the heat of it soak through until Dean could feel it on his skin. “Don’t fuck around,” Sam accused him, voice muffled in Dean’s chest as he wiggled his hips to try to get more, and Dean smirked.

“Alright,” he replied, voice low and rough, and he screwed his finger all the way into Sam’s ass as far as he could, one long, quick thrust. Sam moaned all the way through it, fingers tightening in Dean’s leather jacket, and Dean arched an eyebrow. “Better, princess?” he asked dryly, but Sam only jerked his head in a frantic nod and ground his hips down on Dean’s finger, uncoordinatedly trying to fuck himself on it.

Dean added a second one pretty soon, pulling out and pressing back in with two in a smooth slide. Sam was unbelievably hot inside, tight like a vice and yet still drawing Dean in deeper, like a natural. At the stretch of two fingers, Sam’s own hands slid up to Dean’s shoulders, then to the sides of his neck and gripped him there, as if he was anchoring himself, and Dean let him. He swept his free hand up the graceful curve of Sam’s skinny back, dancing over the small knobs of his spine, to bury it in his hair, petting and tugging lightly at his unruly locks. That earned another moan from his brother, because they both knew Sam liked having his hair played around with a little _too_ much, and Dean smiled down at him, eyes sweeping over the miles of pale, unblemished skin, the slightly stuttering, undulating rhythm of his little body.

It wasn’t actually Dean doing most of the work, here; he kept his fingers in Sam and occasionally spread them or twisted them to make Sam hiss or to hear his breath hitch, but for the most part, he let Sam navigate it on his own; face buried in Dean’s shirt as he fucked his ass back onto Dean’s fingers, rolling his hips to grind down on them, driving himself crazy bit by bit. When Dean looked down between them, he caught a glimpse of how hard Sam’s cock was; not to mention he could feel it bumping and slipping against his t-shirt with Sam’s movements. He knew he was leaking already, knew it wouldn’t take much to set him off, so Dean waited a few more precious minutes, waited until Sam was shaking a little with the pleasure he was shooting through himself as he rode Dean’s fingers, then twisted them up a little deeper, lip catching between his teeth as he concentrated on finding that one spot that drove Sammy crazy.

“ _Oh_ ,” Sam cried out, throwing his head back and gasping as he looked into Dean’s eyes. “Dean, fuck, _fuck_ ,” and when Dean opened his mouth to ask, Sam answered him before he even began with a hissed-out, “ _Yes_.”

Confident now and grinning cockily, Dean hauled Sam closer to him so that his cock was trapped between them, pressed more firmly to Dean’s flat stomach through his clothes, and in doing so he fucked his fingers a little deeper, driving the pads of his fingers into Sam’s prostate with even more force. Sam moaned loudly, fingernails cutting almost painfully into Dean’s neck – and almost instantly, Sam was reduced to a shivering, trembling mess, clinging to Dean as Dean toyed with that one spot inside him, intent on taking him apart.

His hips were juddering, like he was unsure of whether to push his ass back or his cock forward, and so he wound up doing not much of either. He whimpered something that sounded vaguely like Dean’s name, and Dean pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek as he pressed at the small of Sam’s back, urging him forward to grind his cock onto Dean. Pliant and verging on desperate, Sam went easily, rutted his cock urgently against Dean’s stomach, and it really wasn’t long at all before he was coming all over himself and, of course, Dean’s t-shirt, Dean’s fingers pressed up persistently inside of him drawing it out until he was incoherent.

After a minute or so, Dean eased his fingers free, petting Sam’s back in sympathy when he made a disappointed, discomforted sound. “Okay?” Dean asked softly, bumping a hand under Sam’s chin to get him to look at him.

Sam smiled brightly, his eyes hooded and sparkling. “More than,” he mumbled.

Dean grinned and then looked down at himself, groaning at the state of his clothes. “Dude, seriously,” he griped, holding out his come-stained t-shirt. “This is my favourite.”

Shrugging sleepily, Sam leant his weight against him and casually flicked him square in the forehead. “Then next time, don’t keep me waiting.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, feel free to leave a comment/kudos if you liked!


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